


JNCOFT 2: Constant Vigilance! (A "Just Not Cut Out for Torture" Story)

by shilo1364



Series: Torture!verse [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Headmistress!McGonagall, Humor, Pranks, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 00:35:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7992070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shilo1364/pseuds/shilo1364
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set around the same time as Chapter 36 of "Just Not Cut Out for Torture." Minerva McGonagall has had it with Sirius Black and Mad Eye Moody terrorizing her first-years! She sets out to get some vengeance, with the help of Draco Malfoy and the Weasley Twins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	JNCOFT 2: Constant Vigilance! (A "Just Not Cut Out for Torture" Story)

Minerva McGonagall forced a reassuring smile as she ushered the no-longer-terrified first-year from her office. She kept it there as she bid the girl a pleasant evening and nodded to her friends, waiting for her as requested.

The moment the door to her office snicked shut, Minerva strode to her desk and flung herself into her chair. _Thank Godric that’s the last of them - for now._ She dropped her head into her hands, forgoing her normal correct posture. Her long, calloused fingers massaged her temples, offering minor respite from what had become a pounding headache.

She rummaged in her desk for her ever-present biscuit tin, hoping for a sugar-induced break from the pain, only to find it empty. She sighed. She was running out of patience - and had apparantly _already_ run out of biscuits. There had been Twenty-Seven today. _Twenty-Seven_ quivering first-and-second-years, frightened out of their wits by “a fearsome monster and a howling ogre” that jumped out at them as they were headed to class. Or lunch. Or just outside to relax. She snorted. _Fearsome monster, indeed._

She had thought she was _done_ with putting up with Sirius Black’s antics. She’d survived seven years of them - the entirely-too-full-of-themselves self-styled Marauders - and, while she’d been fond of them, in her way, she’d been relieved to see the back of them.

And then.

Then, James’ son, tiny, bumbling, impossible Harry Potter, had arrived to turn her carefully-ordered world on its head.

Never mind Voldemort - the biggest threat to Minerva’s sanity was Potter, Jr. - who, despite knowing next-to-nothing about them, managed to live up to his father’s (and the rest of the Marauders’) propensity for sheer mischief every day.

And just when she’d gotten a handle on Harry Potter, when she’d finally felt herself able to relax (again, leaving Voldemort out of the picture), Sirius waltzed back into her life. She’d had a brief reprieve, while he’d been on the run, and busy with the Order, and credibly faking his own death - she didn’t think Harry would ever recover from that shock, but then no-one had asked her - but now he was back, rallying with the rest of the Order around Harry and preparing for the final confrontation with Voldemort.

And Minerva had been forced to acknowledge that this was different. He was on her turf, now. She was Acting Headmistress of Hogwarts, now that Dumbledore was gone, and, Godric help her, she was not going to stand for this!

Minerva slapped an open palm emphatically on the desktop, jumping slightly at the noise it made, ringing through the too-quiet office.

A muffled laugh sounded behind her, and Minerva half-turned in her chair to send a scathing glare over her shoulder. “Don’t even start with me, Albus!”

The portrait she addressed grinned irrepressibly back at her, eyes twinkling over his painted spectacles. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Minerva dear,” Albus said placatingly.

She sniffed.

Dumbledore’s portrait’s expression turned thoughtful. “Out of curiosity, what _are_ you going to do about Sirius? His schoolboy antics are getting out of hand, and he’s encouraging Moody.”

Minerva shot him a wicked grin as an idea suddenly came to her. “I know just the thing. But I’ll need help pulling it off…” She frowned, rummaging through the day’s accumulated detritus in the pocket of her robes for Hermione’s modified DA coin. “Aha!” She grinned as her fingers closed around the smooth metal disk. “Gotcha!”

She thought carefully about the message she wanted to send, then muttered the keyword Hermione had set to activate it. She grinned as she felt it heat up in her hand, then stooped to pull something from a low shelf on her way to the door.

“Minerva…”

“Sorry, Albus,” she shot over her shoulder. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

The late headmaster’s portrait heaved a long-suffering sigh as the door swung shut behind her, but Minerva’s mind was already leaping ahead to the meeting she’d called. She’d have to phrase this just right…

* * *

“You’re kidding, right?” Draco’s incredulous voice rose over the Weasley Twins’ excited whispering. “I mean… this is Harry’s godfather we’re talking about…”

Minerva sighed. “Good heavens, Mister Malfoy. I’d never have pegged _you_ as one to shy away from playing humiliating pranks on Gryffindors.”

“ _Justified_ pranks,” Fred added.

“ _Completely_ justified,” George echoed.

Draco’s cheeks pinked. “Yes, well. That was before, wasn’t it?”

The twins moved suddenly to flank him, stepping close and draping their arms over Draco’s shoulders. “Come on, mate,” Fred wheedled.

“Yeah. It’ll be fine. You’ll see,” said George. “Harry’ll think it’s a fine lark.”

Draco sighed. “I’m sure I’ll regret this later, but - fine. What did you have in mind?”

Minerva shot them a conspiratorial glance, then tapped the shrunken paper hidden in her fist with her wand, unrolling and enlarging it. She held it out with a flourish. “Well?”

Draco frowned at it. “That’s one of the wanted posters the ministry posted everywhere back when they were still blaming Sirius for the Potters’ deaths.”

Minerva nodded. “Brilliant, isn’t it?”

Draco just stared. “What are we supposed to do with it, exactly?”

“Really, Mister Malfoy, I thought you were cleverer than this. I was under the impression that you were the one who charmed those badges during the Triwizard Tournament. Don’t tell me I’ve been misinformed?”

Draco blushed again. “Yes, well. That’s not really one of my proudest moments.”

“Honestly, mate, you’ve gone soft,” George said.

“What did you have in mind, Professor?” Fred was studying the poster thoughtfully.

Minerva winked. “I thought you’d never ask.” She levitated the poster so it hovered in the air before them, then tapped it decisively with her wand.

The bold letters at the top - that had previously spelled out _Have You Seen This Wizard?_ \- rearranged themselves. The poster now read _Warning: Possibility of Surprise Mad Eye and Padfoot Attacks. Proceed With Caution. And Remember - Constant Vigilance!_

The photo of a wild-eyed and disheveled Sirius grinned toothily at them.

“But… no one will recognize him,” Draco said, staring at the mad gleam in photo-Sirius’ eye.

“That’s where we come in,” the twins said in unison, grinning at one another.

“Are you thinking what I”m thinking, Fred?”

“Most definitely, George!”

They saluted one another with their wands, and then tapped the poster simultaneously.

Photo-Sirius squeaked in surprise, and then disappeared, only to be replaced by a more recent photo of Sirius. Mad Eye Moody strode into the photo, then, and Sirius winked exaggeratedly at him and then shifted into his animagus form. The big, shaggy black dog bounded over to Moody and licked his hand enthusiastically. Mad Eye made a face and wiped his hand on his pants, false eye swiveling crazily.

Minerva clapped. “Excellent work, boys.” She turned expectantly to Draco. “Your turn, Mister Malfoy.”

Draco eyed the poster dubiously. “Er - just what is it you were hoping I would do?”

Minerva rolled her eyes. “Think back to those buttons, Mister Malfoy. Now, we all know Sirius and Moody are competent wizards - if a bit unhinged - do you really think they’ll let these posters alone?”

“Oh. _Oh._ ”

“Exactly, Mister Malfoy. Now, if you don’t mind…” She tapped the poster expectantly.

Draco frowned at the poster, studying it. Then he nodded and tapped the poster with his own wand, concentrating. After a moment he stepped back, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “There. That should do it.”

Minerva pursed her lips, studying the poster critically. "An interesting bit of spellwork, Mister Malfoy. I won’t ask where you learned it - I have a feeling I’d rather not know - but I suspect it will do the trick nicely. Now,” she turned back to Fred and George. “Boys. I think you’re the best suited to test it.” She stepped back several paces, grabbing Draco’s arm and dragging him with her. “Do your worst, gentlemen.”

Fred and George grinned at one another, identical mischievous gleams lighting their eyes, and hit the poster with a barrage of spells.

Minerva grinned when the poster’s only response was to spell out increasingly derogatory remarks and for Padfoot and Moody to stick their tongues out at them.

Draco watched, delighted, as none of the twins’ ever-more-inventive spells touched the poster.

After a few minutes, Minerva clapped her hands sharply. “Well,” she said briskly, “I do believe that settles that.” She plucked the poster from the air, tapping it with her wand to roll it neatly once more. Then she waved her wand in a complex pattern over it, muttered a spell beneath her breath, and the poster disappeared.

“What did you just do?” Fred asked curiously.

Minerva winked at them. “That lovely little spell is my own invention. It has made the administrative nightmare that is serving as Acting Headmistress of this school _and_ Head of Gryffindor House _and_ Transfigurations Professor much more doable.”

George cocked an eyebrow, and waited expectantly.

Minerva grinned and beckoned them closer. “I’ve made copies of it,” she stage-whispered, “and posted them in every classroom and hallway in this school. Let them just _try_ to catch any student unawares, now.”

“But,” Draco frowned. “A poster won’t necessarily…”

Minerva’s grin turned sly. “Oh, and I added a little something extra. But you’ll just have to wait and find out with everyone else.”

* * *

As it turned out, they didn’t have to wait for very long. Not twenty minutes later, as Fred, George, and Draco made their way to the Great Hall for dinner, deep in conversation, they heard a commotion from up ahead. They hurried around the corner, wands drawn, stared, flabbergasted, for several seconds, at the sight that met their disbelieving eyes, and then were forced to lean against the corridor wall to remain upright, when the laughter hit.

Up ahead, at the center of an ever-widening ring of students, stood Sirius - well, Padfoot - and Mad Eye Moody, trapped in a cage with bars made of glowing red light that seemed to be emanating from a nearby familiar poster.

The hallway resonated with the sound of a blaring muggle police siren, and a repeated shout of “Constant Vigilance!”

Minerva strolled idly to the cage, waved her wand at it, vanishing the bars, and urged everyone to continue into the Great Hall for dinner.

She looked up, caught Draco’s eye, where he still lounged against the wall with the twins, and winked.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, and feel free to come say hi on [tumblr](https://whimsicaldragonette.tumblr.com/)


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